The Meeting
by Ydream08
Summary: DISCONTINUED. Charms Professor Hermione Granger has to prepare for a meeting with the Board of Governors. What awaits her, she has no idea.
1. Chapter 1

Diclaimer**:** I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

**The Meeting**

_by Ydream08_

* * *

Chapter 1

"Professor Granger, I'm glad you dropped by this quickly," said Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. "Please, sit down and have tea, and some biscuit."

"Oh, sure," Hermione Granger muttered and perched at the chair opposite her teacher. No, Headmistress McGonagall was now her colleague. With how hard that was to believe, Hermione was unable to shake off the feeling that she wasn't a student. McGonagall had been unchanged, and sitting under her prim gaze Hermione always felt like she was about to hear a feedback of an early-handed-in Transfiguration assignment.

Hermione cleared her throat and fixed her robes. They were no longer that of a student. It had no Hogwarts crest or colours of her former House. Today, she wore navy blue robes that complimented her knee-length pencil skirt of the same colour. Inside, she had a blouse of a lighter shade of blue. Matched with kitten heels, she looked the part of Charms Professor.

The completion of her Charm thesis five years after the War, and her subsequent employment in Hogwarts had finalized last June. Professor Flitwick had been counting the days, in fact. The moment he had convinced Hermione to specialize in Charms, the man had elaborately planned his retirement. Sure, they exchanged owls now and then, but Hermione was no longer a mere assistant.

She had revolutionary plans for the curriculum of Hogwarts, specifically Charms. And having developed a primary scheme, she has been executing it the past five months, changing wherever that fell short with the feedback of the children.

There hasn't been major setbacks, aside from Hermione overworking herself to prepare interactive classes. Also, the style demanded a better forestudying from students which presented a challenge for the whole student body.

Yet, Hermione was determined that such a curriculum would be a cornerstone to create capable witches and wizards.

"This biscuit is lovely," Hermione commented the moment she took a bite, easily distracted by the buttery flavour. "No wonder Harry had been impressed."

To that, Headmistress smiled, appreciating the nostalgia. "I want to cut to the point, Professor Granger. However, if I know you the slightest, I should ask you first of your availability for the next hour. Do you have a class? I would not like you to be late to it."

"No, actually. I have a class after this free hour. Why?"

"You see, I think you will find that there is much to talk about my news." Headmistress collected her hands in front of her. She sighed, all of a sudden seeming more solemn than a few seconds ago. "It is like yesterday that you were hired as the Charms Professor, and at that instant, you asked me if it would be okay to change the programme. Ah, how the time flies— it has been five months! And I gave you my permission, with the explicit condition that you have to report me your plans and proceedings, yes?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course, I wouldn't act without your knowledge." She didn't like where this was going, it brought a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

"Well, I haven't observed any stressing issues with your methods. They are refreshing, and in my opinion, has to at least be tried to see how the students welcome it. For five months, I believe everything has been going well." Headmistress pinned Hermione with her stare, readying her for the news. "However, it seems this new development has reached the Board of Governors, and they wish for these methods to be brought to them to be discussed. There are some who object to this unfamiliar system, claiming the traditional way should not be deterred from."

Hermione felt cool emptiness engulf her, right before her heart began to race. _What?_

"So whatever that has been done should be continued? Since it has already produced _amazing_ wizards."

Headmistress McGonagall scrunched her face in agreement.

"Have they seen the results of the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T.s from the last decade? Or half a century? It is sadly disgraceful. I checked before I presented you this plan. And internationally we give the least graduates who even specialize in the elementary magical majors. Hence why after the War, you were left with no choice but to invite Professors from abroad to fill the staff."

Hermione felt her blood jump in her veins, consequently her head throbbed as if to count down for an explosion.

"I mean, there are witches and wizards who can't even maintain a levitation charm over a couple of minutes: Don't you remember the news from last week? While moving a house, the caster dropped a bloody armchair on a witch in the street because the charm failed. The wand was found to be perfectly undamaged."

"Professor Granger?"

Hermione abruptly stopped at the voice of the Headmistress. Oh, she was dying to continue on. She. Was. Fuming.

"You simply present your plan to the Board, explain your reasons as you do to me, and continue with your teaching. Until a date is arranged for this event, you won't be asked to stop how you teach."

That sounded easy. Sure. Hermione Granger bringing to table a revolutionary plan for education. A table surrounded by pureblood elitist, most likely. Who was in the Board, anyway? Did Lucius frigging Malfoy keep a seat, for example? Yeah, what could possibly go wrong?

"And what if they refuse my methods?"

There was a silence. It felt too long.

"Then, unfortunately, I would be left to ask you to continue Professor Flitwick's old lessons."

"Do not think the worst at first, Miss Granger." Headmistress looked at her with warm eyes. "Think of all your students. I haven't heard a single one of them complaining to me."

"Not even Steve Harris from the sixth years?"

"Well, some students complain about everything." The two women chuckled. "There are a few I can count that have been more than happy with your teaching. Remember how dear Sally Jones told Slughorn she considered Charms major in her post-graduation plan?"

Hermione smiled fondly. Indeed, there have been students who embraced the class change enthusiastically.

That didn't mean, this meeting with the Board was a piece of cake, though. Regardless of the thoughts of students, her classes could be canceled.

"Why now?" Hermione asked, aware that the question made tears appear in the corner of her eyes. She worked so hard for this. All her summer was spent preparing content of her classes (from year one to year seven), and since the start of the school year, Hermione has been giving every free minute of her life to constantly advancing the class, in addition to reading and scoring assignments and the rest of the duties of a teacher. She hasn't had a proper get-together with her friends, even. Let alone a romantic date (not that she had anyone to ask her out).

It has been five bloody months. Five months of constant work, and nothing else. She has happily given all her free time for this.

Headmistress sighed and aimlessly replaced a few parchments on her desk to buy time. Hermione hated how difficult this question seemed for Headmistress McGonagall: Why did it take five months for her methods to be questioned?

"It has only been brought to the Board's attention," Headmistress finally said. "Simply speaking, they have recently found the state of your classes from their children, like many other families. And a few of them who had found out earlier, I had personally relieved them of their concern that this change would negatively reflect on the exams."

"So," Hermione thought. Displeasure with her lessons wasn't something new, so it seems. Hermione Granger was unwanted in her position from day one. Amazing. When was the wizarding world going to accept her? "This is as far as you could postpone the inevitable."

Headmistress slowly nodded. "Sadly, the Board is above my station."

Well, that didn't cheer up Hermione. She wondered what exactly awaited her in that meeting. And whether she would come out alive from it.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Meeting**

_by Ydream08_

* * *

Chapter 2

"Good day, Yaxley," greeted Minerva McGonagall as stern as always. Corban could make out that the woman was slightly surprised, if not alarmed, by his attendance. This meeting, of course, was not meant to include him directly, but it was the hot topic of the Ministry. What could not be, if it involved any of _the Golden Trio_.

So, Corban had been...curious.

"Headmistress McGonagall." He nodded. "I hope my attendance will not be unwelcome. I understand you were not expecting me, as I _am_ the Head of the Department of Magical Education in the Ministry, but please be at ease. My presence does not mean anything formal; a friend of mine from the Board of Governors simply invited me to… well, be informed."

Corban charmingly smiled, but it did nothing to disarm the older witch. The woman scowled deeper.

"Sad that it wasn't brought up with me…" the witch seethed. Yaxley did not drop his smile even when the woman checked him from head to toe. Was she expecting an overtly sign that he was hostile? Of course he was not!

Hostile he could be if he was disrespected or demeaned from his new very-much-earned status.

However, he was not delusional to say the Education Department was the top most priority of the Ministry. The new minister Shacklebolt had far more pressing issues so he overlooked their dealings. Hence why it had been easier for Corban to apply for a position and then be promoted to be the Head of this Department as a reformed ex-Death Eater. He wasn't getting ahead of himself, regardless.

New times required a new outlook.

He could play nice as much as any other.

"Is there a problem, Headmistress?" Yaxley drawled.

Headmistress maintained her stern expression. "Not at all. You will see it won't matter either way. Professor Granger has done the research to a T. Her presentation here wouldn't be different if it were brought to you, or even to Shacklebolt! I expect you will enjoy it. Please, join us, Mr. Yaxley."

Well, that sounded rather amused by the end. Yaxley managed a tight smile. He would have rathered Headmistress to be on edge, not bloody _amused_.

No matter. The meeting. It was important. Corban was the authority here, and his view would finalize the decision. Not like the Board could take a decision that contradicted him.

Entering the meeting room, he was met with tables arranged in a U-position. More than half of the Board was present.

"Mr. Bones," Corban greeted the Head of the Board.

Harrison Bones had been elected for the position five years ago at the end of the War. He had fought for the Light side, if Corban remembered correctly. No surprise there as his daughter had been listed in the Dumbledore's Army. Corban had memorized that list by heart. All those years back, that annoying Umbridge woman had been updating him of those children as if Corban had nothing else to do. His brief stunt as the Head of Law Enforcement back then had been a time of nightmare.

"Mr. Yaxley." Bones nodded. "I was surprised when Mr. Malfoy asked permission to invite you for our short meeting of today. It pleases me to hear that you are interested in the recent developments in education."

"Always am. One couldn't come to positions that I hold now without persistent _interest_ in the subject." Corban had to reciprocate Bone's sentiment. The irritating bastard. "I must say it is also much appreciated to see you continue your volunteered standing in the Board. Your daughter has graduated some years ago now."

Corban didn't like the man one bit. Tolerated him, sure, as hard as it actually was. Harrison Bones kept looking at him as if he was dirt under his shoes. Although the man actually smiled, Corban knew better. Bones did not think well of him.

The feeling was mutual.

It was a known fact that Harrison Bones had laid with a Muggleborn, impregnated the woman, but had left her and the unborn child. For more than a decade Bones had been abroad, Merlin knows where. People said the Muggleborn woman had not told Bones of her pregnancy, but either way, for Yaxley the event was nothing but shameful from the person he had gotten involved with, to the consequences of his reckless actions... What good would it be for the wizard to show up when his child was already fifteen or sixteen, anyway?

It wasn't hard making a respectable marriage and taking responsibility of any child you sire afterwards. Of course, Bones lacked any kind of sensibility of duty and reason.

The man was a poor excuse of a father. Being involved in this Board to alleviate his guilt.

So, yes, Corban Yaxley did not even respect the man.

"We shouldn't remain standing. Please, sit down next to me. The meeting should start shortly." Bones gestured for the seat, unperturbed by Yaxley's earlier comment, ignoring it all together.

Corban smiled and took his place. He would have rathered sitting with the cranky Headmistress where she sat apart from the Board.

Gritting his teeth, Yaxley looked around for the attendance. Malfoy came in just as he was finished counting (only two were absent, both rather old witches).

His old friend looked paler than his everyday complexion. Corban noted the slight crease of his brows. Lucius Malfoy was cross. First thing in the morning, no less. What could have possibly happened…?

Just then, a young witch came in after Lucius.

Corban had to halt, and make sure he was seeing alright. If he had not known the woman to be Hermione Granger, member of the Golden Trio, he would have said he hadn't seen the witch in his life.

Perhaps he had not.

She wore robes of a rich fabric, the colour of the darkest blue. Briskly unloading her belongings, the witch continued to shed her outer robes to reveal a classy dress of a similar hue. It was a sheath dress that reached to her knees that she looked delectible in. There was a thin strap of silver belt that highlighted her slim waist. As the witch got to prepare for her presentation, the sound of her heels alerted Yaxley more than necessary. Her curly hair, too, rather complimented her overall outfit, falling bouncily by her shoulders.

Suddenly, Corban felt his mouth dry.

Clearing his throat, he looked away. This was absurd! He shouldn't be looking at the witch in such an untoward way. He was outright _appreciating _her look.

Can't helping it, he glanced at her once more. Her back was turned, and Rowena, what a wonderful back she had!

Corban looked away immediately. _Again._ Not like he had never seen any other woman in an exquisite outfit. He was old to be looking at such young woman, anyway. Wasn't he?

Oh, how much he wished to be a young wizard of twenty-five again!

Contradictory to all his thoughts, Corban Yaxley had been a reclusive teen. As the years had passed, his interaction with women had not improved. Being turned down by a witch he had thought was the love of his life, had damaged him for better use as well. And, addition to all that, the few witches he imagined sharing a life with cordially, turned out to be the opposite of how he had got to know them.

The time Corban Yaxley had caught his fiance fucking his best mate, he had quit the mere idea of marriage. Arranged marriage or not, the scandal had been unacceptable.

After that, came the Wars, of course. A great outlet to get revenge on all those who had done him wrong and climb to a standing where he was viewed important.

Now, Corban could admit he has made all the wrong decisions.

Hence why he was miserably alone.

"I'd like to start by saying welcome to all of you." The resonating voice was feminine. Confident. All noise hushed. Ms Granger was talking: "Headmistress McGonagall has notified me of your concerns, and today we gathered here to discuss the plans I have for the Charms lesson in Hogwarts. I know some of you are parents as well, so please do not hesitate to ask questions."

Corban shifted. He was aware Bones took notice, but he would ignore him. Finding a more comfortable postion, Corban decided he would focus on what the witch had to say.

This was a serious meeting. No place to daydream like a teenage boy.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Meeting**

_by Ydream08_

* * *

Chapter 3

Oh, for Merlin's sake! Why was she always looking back at him!

Hermione had started a marvelous day. Her presentation was ready (It was detailed and prepared for any counter-argument). Her clothes were picked from the previous night and fit perfectly. Lastly, her make-up was eye-stopping.

It was a fine day to obliterate the Board of Governors and any archaic idea they had.

Hermione hadn't even cared that she had an unpleasant run in with Mr. Lucius Malfoy right before the meeting. With his son's newly revealed lycanthropy, Hermione had had the upper hand to start with.

Considering all that, her hammering heart had been only a contributor to the rush of adrenaline that came with giving an important presentation.

Or she had thought like that, until Hermione found herself constantly looking back at a man sitting far across the room.

His gaze was direct and intense. Like every other listener from the Board, Hermione guessed, but she didn't know that for sure. For all she knew, the rest of the Board could be be asleep!

Because for some unfathomable reason, Hermione couldn't help but return to that very same man whenever she addressed to the Board.

He was a well-dressed man, clear-shaven, and his hair too was combed back neatly. His eyes were striking in its intensity. Square jawed, he couldn't be considered handsome exactly but his brute features caught the eye. Hermione's eyes specifically. She has been looking at him all the time.

There were over twenty people in the room, Godric help her!

Turning back to the blackboard, where she had charmed the chalk to replicate her notes, Hermione continued to explain the curriculum she had envisioned. She would give an overview the main changes, then proceed to detail them by year. So, yes, the best plan she had at the moment was to concentrate on the material and direct everyone's attention at the blackboard.

"As you can see, the addition of elective classes in third year visibly decreases the annual lesson time for Charms. So, by the end of the second grade, the goal must be adapting students to the discipline of Charms so that with their increased load of various lessons, they wouldn't have problem studying the practical requirements of my lesson.

"That being said, essay submissions and learning the theory should not be discouraged. I present you the material and topics the students are assigned to research and learn for the total seven years. You will recognize that the assignment amount decreases. It means one assignment, longer time for their submission and better quality expected. That, and the monthly Charms article discussions are the main developments I brought for the theoretical part." Hermione flicked her wand and a copy of an article was distributed among the Board. "This, for example, is the article I gave fifth-year students to read last week. I asked them to write down a short informal paragraph. As this is a new month, we spent the first class talking about this article. I find that such interactive classes urge students to think better about what they read so that they could have an opinion to share in class."

Hermione surveyed her audience and yet again her gaze was locked with that man. He looked to have skimmed the article already. She knew him from somewhere. Where she couldn't determine now, but it was ridiculous that she felt grounded and comforted when looking at him.

Hermione cleared her throat

"Now about the practical lessons for all seven years—"

"Professor Granger?" came a voice, asking permission to speak. It was witch, her eyes gazing her suspiciously.

"Yes?"

"Before you go on… I would like to ask how this lesson of yours -" The witch waved the article in her hand, meaning Hermione's class with the fifth years. "-actually played out. You must agree with me when I say not all children have the responsibility of reading articles, not to mention such advanced articles. Although you aim for an interactive class, I doubt the children are contributing any. What is the point of the change, if you are the one to talk all the time in the class again?"

Hermione sighed. This was an argument she had expected. "You are right that students are not adapted to learn prior to coming to a class, in this case reading this article. But believe me, the count of those who are not prepared, falls to minimal as this type of class is continued. While I had more than ten students who had not read the assigned article at the beginning of the year, now last lesson there were only two students. And even they had a basic understanding of the topic, thanks to their friends. But I must say I disagree with you about the difficulty of this article. This certainly is not advanced for fifth-year students. If we expect these children to finish seven years of education equipped to apply for a job, by fifth-year they should be capable of reading these articles and draw reasonable conclusions. Is that not what O.W.L.s aim to assess?"

There was silence in the room. Hermione held her breath. Would anyone interrupt?

They did not. So Hermione continued. "We expect students to be well-versed wizards and witches. Children manifest their magic around age six to seven. From then to age eleven, they are not officially educated. Later only Hogwarts exists for them to become capable wizards. At the end of the seven years, they apply to work immediately, no further education. This is where the knot is tied: Those seven years, students are not allowed to practice magic outside of school and in the school only lessons are available for them to practice magic. In their free time while they are unsupervised, it is not encouraged for them to go over their spellwork. So, when Hogwarts ends, the student population lacks the essential of magic: _actually using it. _

"For Charms, students can't tell a Charm that needs an initiation magic from another Charm that requires a continuous source. If they look up a new spell, they cast it without adequate knowledge of what the spell entails either because they don't research the incantations or don't understand the explanations that come with it. Furthermore, even if they think they are able to cast certain spells, these young wizards and witches do not know the limit of their concentration and durability, so as a result of that their magic behaves not how they intend it. There are magical core depletion cases in St. Mungos, and a review showed that the last decade the age of the patients were most commonly between 17 to 25."

Hermione flicked her wand and her notes that detailed out exactly why the education system had to change appeared.

There were bullet points of what she had said so far.

Other points included:

3) Graduates who study advanced magic is 5 percent of each graduation class

4) Unspeakable and Auror programmes which require the most magical knowledge, have been noted to provide extra lessons that was known to cover what Hogwarts curriculum said to teach

5) N.E.W.T. exam results are becoming unsatisfactory + More graduates are jobless because they could not complete the exam to certain scores

6) International equivalent of their education falls short

7) A collection of news that declares wizard inadequacy after it was confirmed wands were found to be working

It was understatement to say a discussion erupted.

* * *

It was no surprise that it took the second tea & coffee break for Corban to be in the same circle as Professor Hermione Granger.

First break was spent when the young witch was basically assaulted with further questions. Thankfully the second break, people were more interested in discussing the current questions within their social groups.

There wouldn't be any decision drawn today. However, Corban admired Professor Granger for dusting the Board of its ignorance.

Of course, these news had come to Corban's attention as the Head of the Education Department. They were currently working on each concern, as expected. However, so far, he had personally thought such a radical change was unnecessary.

That was where he disagreed with the young witch. So he intended to ask her opinion on it.

"Professor Granger?"

The young witch turned with a tea in hand. She looked startled seeing him, but she cleared her throat and collected herself.

"Yes, that's me. And you are?"

Corban offered his hand. The witch switched the tea to her other hand and blushed as flustered as she was.

Her hand was so delicate within his.

"Corban Yaxley, Head of the Education Department in the Ministry."

It was interesting to see emotions flutter across her warm gaze: recognition, shock, and dejection.

"_You_ are the Head of the Department?" the witch squawked.

Miffed at her reaction, Corban couldn't help his scowl. "I believe it is poor manners to address your superior in that way."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say…" The witch stopped. The previous shame pinking her cheeks drained as a scowl of her own contorted her face. "Do you say that because I'm a Muggleborn?"

It was Corban to be shocked this time. His deeds in the Wars were known, yes, and although Corban had not been sentenced to Azkaban, it did not change the fact that he had been a Death Eater.

Reformed or not, nobody ever confronted him like this. _This girl got guts._

"You will see that I care little of blood status any more, Professor Granger." Corban squeezed her hand that was still in his grasp. He was gentle, the gesture was not threatening. He had simply meant that he wouldn't shy away from contact.

He was thinking exactly that the duration of the meeting, anyway. _Only if the witch would let him..._

"What I mean to say, as your senior and as the Head of my department, I expect to be respected."

"Respect must be earned, Mr. Yaxley." She didn't force his hand away, but firmly held their handshake. "And I will give you that chance. Please excuse my comment from earlier. I was slightly surprised, that's all."

Corban gave a tight smile. This was better. Nodding, he let go of her hand.

"I wanted to ask you something about this plan of yours…" Corban started but Professor Granger seemed to catch up to him only then.

"Wait, if you are the Head of the Education Department… Why aren't you doing something about those things I mentioned? Nothing has changed the past five years! Only the castle, if you count the renovations." The witch rolled her eyes.

"Do not stress, Professor Granger, nearly all you have covered in this presentation has been discussed in my Department. However, we are yet to take big steps, so to speak. That was my question for you actually… Is it really productive to take such radical steps to get results? Don't you think there could be other alternatives?"

His question left Professor Granger failing at words for a few short moments before her shock and awe morphed into heated determination.

It was a short coffee break, but the two managed to fill two more breaks with their discussion. They talked what change meant, what it should bring to the table, the requirements of its sustainability and how long should be given to each new method. They made profiles of kinds of students, which groups were more likely to take in the change and adapt, while which groups would utterly fail to get results. They discussed the amount of students who would benefit from a new system. They talked about the amount of effort that the professors had to put to make such foundational changes.

"We didn't get to discuss as I would have liked to," Corban finally brought their discussion to an end. After this break, the Board would determine a date to meet again with a decision was yet to be drawn. People wanted to sit on this development and think thoroughly.

"I agree. It felt more like we kept briefly shutting down our arguments without being productive. There are good points we both make that could be merged, I think."

The young witch seemed amusedly surprised by this.

"I agree. Perhaps you would be agreeable to meet for dinner before the date of the next meeting."

Her blush meant that Professor Granger was not slow to take his intention. Corban wanted dinner to get to know her better, too. Why should he miss the chance when the lady seemed so enthusiastic to be in his presence and talk with him?

"I really don't know my schedule… and the semester is ongoing, so I'm not sure…" The young witch lifted her eyes to look at him again. Her breath caught. "Oh, forget it… I'll owl to you, is that okay?"

Corban smirked at that. It was better than okay.

He took her hand in his and covered it with his other hand. A kiss on her knuckles would have been better, but they were in public.

"I'll wait to hear from you."

* * *

"I asked her to dinner."

His old friend snorted into his firewhiskey.

"I know. I overheard." Lucius sipped his drink. "She has a sharp tongue, let me say that now. Though you might prefer it, I did not quite like that trait when she was baiting me about Draco."

"You deserved it." Corban sighed. It was a cruel fate, but still. "We all had a punishment. And your son paid because of you."

Lucius sneered. "Don't lecture me, Yaxley. It is not me who is considering laying with a Muggleborn. You were the last to even think about something like that. _This_, must be your punishment. Aside from the repercussions you paid to the Ministry leaving you utterly penniless, that is."

Corban closed his hand to a fist. The only reason his drink had not smashed into pieces in his grasp was that the bastard Malfoy had the most ridiculously expensive set of glasses that would worth one month rent of a small cottage.

"Oh," Lucius seemed uncaring of his anger. "_And_ you don't have an heir. We are forty-eight years old, dear friend. Of course, it is not too late, but if you intend to mess around… and not with your whores at that..."

Corban didn't know what to do. If it were five years ago, before the Second Wizarding War, he would have never looked at a Muggleborn woman twice.

The war had changed him.

* * *

"_We thought it was just the Muggle family," the Auror meekly explained. _

_Corban Yaxley did not take his eyes off the moving picture that took record of the crime scene. There, to the right corner, laid a woman he knew. He was never ashamed of knowing the woman. He had been paying her well for her services as a Half-blood. She had learned quickly how to please him._

_Corban flipped the page. There was a normal photo of the girl, from her Ministry issued I.D. most probably. She had been a pretty one. Blonde and blue eyes. _Celine_, Corban knew her as, although it seems that was not her real name._

"_It writes here that she is a Half-Blood. I don't understand why she was targeted."_

"_Her father, sir. He was a Muggleborn. We followed him to where we believe now was his parents' house. He refused to hand in his wand."_

_Corban knew the rest of the story. He came across too many similar to that._

_As the Head of the Law Enforcement, the peace of their society depended on him. Between the work of his comrades and Auror missions, his job mostly consisted of protecting the few civilians who did not oppose them and shutting down the resistance groups, while making sure everybody upholded the new laws that were set by dear Dolores Umbridge._

_Their current priority, however, was catching the Undesirables. Hence why it had slipped Corban's mind that they were even after those good-for-nothing Muggleborns._

"_Shame," Yaxley muttered. He understood only recently that this was really meaningless. Celine's early death was another proof for him._

_So many deaths. If this went on, the British Wizarding Society would fall to quarter of its number… Weren't they already outnumbered by the Muggles?_

_Corban kept his mouth shut, knowing it was not wise to follow that train of thought. It was not every day that he had become the Head of Law Enforcement. And, he did not desperately wish to be killed._

* * *

"Any other insults left, old friend?" Corban shot at Malfoy. "I only mentioned two of your mistakes, but you count three of mine."

"Life is unfair, Corban."

He snorted. The man was obviously drunk.

"I don't want to mess around any more, Lucius. I need a family. I want children. Do you know what will happen of my manor after I die? It will be left to my useless cousins on my mother's side. They don't bare my name, yet they get to have my ancestral house."

"Aren't they the ones who turned you down when you asked for a loan?" Lucius asked. He gulped down the remainder of his drink. "Bastards. It's good that you have me."

"I am not a fool, Malfoy. Don't act like I haven't been returning the favour. How else were you planning to get in the good graces of the Ministry? I inform you all the worthwhile projects that you could donate your endless money to. So, Shacklebolt is left with no choice but to like you."

"Tolerate me."

"Tolerate you," Corban corrected, grinning.

Both men grinned.

"It is close, now. We will be at better places. Respected." Malfoy poured the two of them another glass. "I am supporting my Werewolf son, acting in the Ministry to advocate for his and his fellow infected wizards' rights. _Because_ I am a decent human being, who has put the past away."

Corban nodded. "And you did, my friend. Although you make this sound like a master plan to cover your evil heart."

Lucius snorted. "Of course it is a master plan. Anything to make the world a better place for my son."

There was a silence while both drank their glasses.

Raising his glass towards him, Lucius showed his evil grin of the day. "And you, Corban Yaxley… _You _are intending the have the most well-known and influential witch in your bed, and if your girlish fussing is to go by, you intend for her to stay there. In your bed. The one in the Yaxley Manor."

Corban did not immediately answer. What could he say? He desired the witch. He had failed to count the times he pictured her beneath him ever since seeing her this morning.

And he was a decent man. Corban Yaxley would not touch a woman without taking responsibility. He had supported Celine for years, and this was not the same thing. This was not a mere business transaction. This was far more serious. Contraceptive charms were known to fail at times, as well.

Corban Yaxley didn't do what today's youth called 'girlfriend-boyfriend'. He had failed miserably at arranged marriage contracts, too. That left not many options but Corban knew one thing: He wanted to do more to the young witch than just discuss with her.

He had already dismissed her blood-status (it was easy to forget, he realized), which only meant that Corban was seriously considering proposing her properly.

"I will ask her to marry me. Have my children."

Lucius sighed at this announcement.

"That is fast even for you, Corban. You said dinner only half an hour ago."

"We are forty-eight, as you said, mate, I do not think I have much time to lose."

* * *

***Excuse any mistakes. It is late, and I didn't have the chance to look over.**

****It was very fun to write about the education system. I didn't know I could get so invested in this.**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Meeting**

_by Ydream08_

* * *

Chapter 4

It was a cold day for March. Although the sun shone brightly overhead, Hermione felt the biting chill on her face. Perhaps in the afternoon it could be warmer.

Wouldn't matter, as she guessed Ginny and her would be holed up in Three Broomsticks well into the evening.

After last week's meeting, Hermione had immediately wrote to Ginny to meet up. The young woman was busy training for the new Quidditch season, but her Monday was free. And lucky for Hermione, she had no lessons after 12 that day.

Pushing the doors of the pub, her eyes scanned and quickly found the head of red hair. It was not everyday that Hermione and Ginny arranged a date so easily.

"Oh, you look lovely!" commented Ginny as she got to her feet.

They kissed and settled at the table. "Thank you. You too."

After a short time, Madame Rosmerta dropped by to take their orders. Not much changed in this pub anyway so it was easy to make a decision. When she was gone, Ginny winked at Hermione.

"You really look lovely," she whispered.

Hermione laughed and brushed her away. "I told you, you are just as pretty today."

"Rubbish! I never have a reason to dress like you do! Even shopping it must have been fun."

Hermione blushed. Today's pencil skirt and blouse was a combination she, too, felt quite pretty in. "I came right out of a class, so this is very everyday for me."

To that Ginny rose her brows, blue eyes sparkling.

"Bite my arse if that's true! You might be Gryffindor all the way, but I know you like blacks and blues." Ginny leered at her and sent an air kiss. "Red and cream means you are high in spirits."

"Well, in fact..."

Ginny shrieked. "I knew it! The last time you arranged for us to meet -the two of us alone, without Susan or Luna- you were freaking about a guy after the first date."

Hermione remembered that one. He had been a colleague from France. She had been visiting Beauxbaton for finalizing her research (on Flitwick's orders) and Louis had finally asked her on a date. It was bad timing, as Hermione was returning home in two days, but they had made arrangements on a second date here in Scotland.

She and Ginny had met just in between those two dates.

"Must you bring up that man." Hermione sighed. "I was blindsided in the first date. And the second was bloody awful."

Ginny snickered. "Wait— I remember what you said about him: 'He's like...like Cormac but ruder.' I still can't believe how you didn't notice on that first date in Paris."

Hermione shrugged. "Could be because he is a handsome man who asked me out."

"Fine, fine... I know the story. It's not often that you are asked out and he made you excited and nervous. I've been saying to you that you shouldn't avoid eye contact with males or scowl at them, then you'd get a variety of dates."

Blushing, Hermione took a deep breath before replying. "We can't all be natural flirts."

She sounded disappointed even for her own ears. And a bit jealous.

Ginny snorted. "Yeah, well, that helps me with a few sweaty encounters in locker rooms or in an apartment. But it's hard to find someone serious around. Maybe _I_ don't want anything serious."

Hermione felt awful for bringing it up. It was true that after Ginny and Harry broke up, the youngest Weasley hasn't had a relationship more than three months.

In their silence came Madame Rosmerta with their orders, and food was good to lift their moods.

"Forget about me now," Ginny said smiling. It was amazing to watch her teeth show and one side of her lips stretch to reveal a sharkish smile. "You have news for me. Spill it."

"Okay, you won't believe..." Hermione swallowed and took a sip of her butterbear. She shook her head. "I don't believe it myself, but... Do you remember the meeting I had with the Board of Governors?"

"Yeah, you wrote to me in your last letter. How did that go? You said only, good, in this letter."

"It was fine. A bit chaotic, truthfully," Hermione recalled heated discussions where not a voice could be singled out. It had been a mess at some points. "But, I did fine. I explained my concerns and the curriculum I came up with that would counter the problems. There will be another meeting, to give the final decision, you know."

"That sounds great! I'm glad you feel good about presentation. It would be frustrating if you felt like you left out anything." Ginny filled her mouth distractedly.

"Yeah, I agree. Thank you. The thing is... in the coffee breaks I get to talk with someone... umm... someone I'll tell you later who but he asked me out on a dinner."

Although her mouth was full, Ginny's elation could be read from her excited eyes. She immediately reached to her butterbeer to wash it away.

"And you said yes? That's wonderful! Who is the guy? Do I know him? — but wait, you said you met him in the meeting..."

"About that..." With her fork, Hermione played with her salad. Her insides shivered both in anticipation and dread. What would Ginny say? What would anyone say?

"I don't think it could be anything serious... He... well, it could be just an invite to discuss my plans on education..."

"Who is it?" Ginny sounded hesitant now. "Hermione, when you say he is from the Board of Governors, I can only think of one person that I know was among their members..." Something caught in Ginny's throat; she was jumping to conclusions. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me—"

"It is Corban Yaxley."

There was a moment of silence that froze both women.

Ginny put down her utensils to reach her drink. Hermione felt her mouth dry but she awaited a response from her friend.

"Well, I know of one Yaxley... But a face doesn't come up when you say the name."

"You might not know him... I didn't know him, not much anyway... He is currently the Head of Magical Education, and he was at the meeting informally."

Ginny nodded, "That sounds okay."

Another silence stretched.

"He is a Death Eater, isn't he?—"

"Was," Hermione corrected her, but her own voice was small. She couldn't meet Ginny's eyes.

"— The one in the Ministry who chased after you, caused my brother to be splinched."

This time Hermione thought her own swallow was audible as silent as it was.

"I don't know what to say, Hermione." Ginny sighed. "What about his trial? And sentence? Do you know if he's been to Azkaban?"

"Well, it's only been five years… If he was locked up in Azkaban, he must not have stayed long. The man is the Head of a department. I don't think he could have taken the position without any experience."

"The Ministry still works by those who have money and who knows whom to suck up to," Ginny stated, matter of factly. "There are improvements, yes. My Father was promoted and Percy is doing a worthwhile job there now. But I think it is possible to resort to old connections."

"Let's…" Hermione's voice cracked but she cleared her throat and tried again. She wanted to give a chance to a man toward she felt something. "Let's think that he has been acquitted. And for the record of Ron's injury it happened after I cast the Revulsion jinx on Yaxley and we changed destinations mid-Apparition. I took a risk back then, you know how Apparition magic works."

Ginny closed her eyes, making those few seconds the hardest waiting for Hermione. It had been a hard decision to come clean with Ginny, not only because she knew Mr. Yaxley to be an ex-Death Eater, but also because of a different reason. The same reason Hermione has been reluctant to send an available date for Mr. Yaxley. Her empty parchment still lay next to her quill back in her room in Hogwarts.

"Ginny, I…" Hermione lifted her eyes to see her friend. Ginny gazed softer but Hermione knew she wasn't thrilled. Hermione smiled, noticing only now that a tear has slipped from her lashes. "I've thought long about this. I might be messed up because I even consider his invitation… You are right, he was a Death Eater. And, that time in the Ministry he really did try his best to catch us… and give us to Voldemort. He… He must have done worse things than that, too. He was most likely in the Battle, at the opposite side… To be honest, I just… for once in my life I chose to think later on all those things.

"But even if I overlooked his past, I couldn't be sure because… he is so much _older._ Sure, I had a crush on teachers as a girl. As I grew up, I admitted I found some middle-aged men attractive. I mean, it was just in my head you know…"

Hermione took a sharp breath, but Ginny spoke first. "It is not uncommon, the age difference. I don't know about the Muggle world, but in the magical world once out of Hogwarts, your family either matches you with someone in your age -one or two years give or take- or someone in a high standing who is a widow makes an offer for your hand. In older families, like the Malfoys, generally families arrange everything. In general even some purebloods leave it to their children for some time to make a suitable choice. And there are rare families like mine who respect whatever their children do."

At the last comment, Hermione couldn't help but snort, regardless of her previous demeanor.

Ginny snickered at her reaction. Both knew what Hermione was thinking.

"Your mother shouted for three hours straight when you said you broke up with Harry," Hermione reminded Ginny, still smiling.

"You forget the first time she heard about me and Oliver Wood," Ginny added. "It was worse when we broke up two weeks later."

"I can't believe George made a Howler of it. Remember how he sent it to you that night? As if you wanted to listen to it again."

"Oh, that little shithead. He has the worst sense of humor."

Both young women laughed and even when they calmed, their smiles lingered.

"So, the age difference?" Ginny asked. Hermione was grateful that her friend tried to lift the burden of her mind.

"Truth? I _won't_ think about his past. I refuse to. I know it's not the same but I wouldn't want anyone coming for me because I'm a war heroine, so I think no one should shut down Mr. Yaxley because of his past. _And _I don't really care he is forty-something. It turns me on, even." Hermione giggled at the thought. Merlin! The thought was making her _really _wet.

Hermione continued, "He is charismatic and easy on the eye, and talking with him makes my heart beat faster, my knees feel weak and Godric is witness, _I shake_. I haven't been able to converse with anyone like that. I mean, even you or Harry, or Ron just look at me with this weird sort of blank eyes when I go on about my plan for my Charms lessons and my dates so far has had even less interest. But Mr. Yaxley… well, I see his eyes shine when he agrees with me. I just… I don't know… Ginny, it's just that, everyone gets to date whomever they want… and it is not like it will be anything serious. I started a 'serious relationship' with Ron and we know how that turned out."

Ginny nodded in agreement, so Hermione felt positive that she was on the right tract.

"I think I'll go on a date with him, have fun, talk as much as the conversation flows, and the rest… who knows?"

"Alright. That sounds like a plan," Ginny exclaimed. "You _already _have a plan! Gosh I feel so used coming here at my free day."

"Oh hush, you know I love you for this." Hermione squeezed Ginny's hand over the table. "And I'll buy you a chocolate cake, to make sure you miss me."

Ginny laughed. "Oh, Hermione, you know how to make a girl swoon."

* * *

It would be another dull day at work, Corban knew. The Department had its hands full of preparing for the OWLs and NEWTs, collecting exam questions and arranging examiners for the practical sessions, but as the Head of the Department Corban had little else to do than oversee all these were being done.

A week and a half ago, Corban wouldn't mind the routine. He was content with where he has reached in the Ministry. He had people working under him who recognized his authority, and even some respected him upon seeing past his convictions and realizing that Corban Yaxley did a thorough job. He would occasionally attend meetings that involved other Department heads and Corban didn't mind even reporting to Minister Shacklebolt.

It used to be satisfying. Corban had worked hard to be at his standing.

As an inner circle member of the Dark Lord, his crimes were listless. Willful injuring, depriving individuals of freedom, treason to the Government, and coercion to murder (there were witnesses for his insistence that Draco kill Dumbledore) and using Unforgivables (that was for the Imperius he had cast on Pius Thicknesse) were among them. And his case would have been unsalvageable, if it were not for the fact that Corban Yaxley had been severely _punished_ by the Dark Lord for failing to capture Harry Potter at his break-in to the Ministry.

His wounds had been fresh when he had been dragged to the Battle of Hogwarts. Merlin knows how he had managed to hold his wand that day. The fight had been a blur but Corban remembered looking around himself and recognizing every wand that had pointed at him and inflicted immeasurable damage in the darkness of the dungeons.

What a waste of his efforts it had all been, Corban had thought, knowing that he had put his life a second time in the line for a madman. Corban Yaxley had been wishing the monster hadn't come back again.

Corban had had to put on appearances to avoid death, as close as the Dark Lord had seemed to victory.

After the Potter boy reawakened, Corban did not need another reason to remain in their allegiance.

When it was all over and the Healer assigned in Azkaban examined him, Corban's torture in the dungeons was unraveled and along with his last minute change of sides (He had duelled and incapacitated some Death Eaters) helped him avoid a life-long imprisonment.

Indeed the trials began and Corban found his trial took longer than most as contradictory as his whole story had been. However, it would have been a sorry sentence if Corban had not opened his vaults in the end. And opened them wide.

Thanks to his financial cooperation, his initial sentence of 25 years in Azkaban was reduced to 3 years, with an additional 10 years of wand-probation and a payment worth 5 million galleons.

To an early release Corban had not hesitated to agree with departing more than half his fortune. Regardless of how Lucius saw it as becoming poor, Corban had a decent amount left for him to last his remaining years. Lost money or not, once Corban was released, he would have been a fool to turn down Ministry's offer of a job either way, no matter how lowly it was.

Two years of hard work, the Ministry's desperation for capable employee and knowing exactly how to proceed in the Ministry, Corban had finally achieved his desired position this year.

Yet, he felt like his life lacked something.

When he turned over in his four-poster bed and saw that the other side of the bed was empty, he knew what. Or whom.

Some would call it greed but to Corban Yaxley, it was only natural that he desired to share his life with someone. Already he was feeling loneliness creep in and his life become meaningless. Ages ago, he had been blinded by absurd ideals. They were gone. No longer present in his life. Now, in his new life, having grasped the best position he could climb in his career (and he wouldn't dream further _currently_, at least within the Ministry) Corban was ready to reach to something else.

It was easy to imagine her next to him. She would be lying there, a pillow she hugged to her chest, and another invisible one obscured by her magnificent hair. Beneath all that curly mess, her amber eyes would sparkle and her lips would curl into a smile.

"Good morning, love," she would say before she rolled over and pecked him on the lips.

Corban wouldn't depart with her that easily, though. Capturing her lips, he would make them stay in bed more than half an hour… until the children woke up at least.

Blinking he saw the bed empty as it in reality was. Corban jerked from the daydream. "Fuckery," he murmured under his breath.

Glancing at the tenting visible over the blankets, Corban swore again.

A cold shower was imminent.

Getting out of bed, he started his morning routine. It wasn't until he was under the shower head that he thought perhaps his problem could be handled another way.

Leaning to the tiles with one hand, the other grasped the base of his member. He opened the shower to give the needed lubricity and got to stroke himself. It could have been her hand around his shaft right now. She would have been on her knees. Her beautiful eyes looking up at him as she showed her tongue. She would lick the head of his member.

Corban flicked his wet thumb over the head to mimic his fantasy.

"Fuck." It felt good. Could have been better if it were her tongue tasting him, her mouth taking him, her hand that grabbed his arse cheek.

Corban increased the pressure of his grip and stroked his shaft faster. His hips thrusted in rhythm. By now, he would have buried his hands in her lovely hair. He would be thrusting into her hot mouth, feeling the tip of his member pressing to the back of throat.

She would be moaning.

_Not as loud as his growls_.

Eyes tightly shut while he concentrated on every movement, he muttered,"Yes… Fuck… Like that!"

Corban's thighs were starting to hurt with the effort, but he liked the burning pain. His motions were becoming fast and clumsy, but he didn't give a flying fuck.

He opened his eyes and saw his own hand frantically stroking his enlarged purple-red shaft.

She was not there.

"Hermione," he whispered, and thought back to her promise. "_I'll owl to you, is that okay?"_

There had not come a letter addressed to him from the witch.

It has been more than a week.

Anger flared in Corban's chest and he pumped his member faster, harder, and slapped his other hand against the tiles. Where. Was. Her. Letter?

"Fuck her," he gritted out. He was hot, wet and aroused. All combined with anger.

A few more thrusts later Corban felt his balls squeeze, and his seed shot out. Climbing down from his orgasm left Corban empty. And disappointed. He was satisfied, but wanking off to a witch who did not reciprocate his attraction was only miserable.

He showered and cleaned every imaginary trace of her completely.

The past week has passed like this more or less. He pleased himself at the thought of the young witch. It wasn't always in the shower, but also in the bed, lying or sitting down. The first few days had not included the anger and disappointment that tainted his fantasies. It had been full of excitement and anticipation.

Fool, he has been.

You have a life, he thought, get back to it and find someone else.

Easier said than done, Corban knew. It might be a hard task very much like dressing without magic, getting to work without magic, overall living without magic.

Corban sighed and dismissed all his thoughts.

Three quarters of an hour later, he flushed the toilet in the visitor's entrance and arrived in the Ministry. He had filed a request to open his floo network in the Manor, and he had high hopes that it would be granted as the simple man the Head of Transportation Department was. Corban had treated the man to a dinner and they were _friends_ ever since.

Snickering at his thoughts, Corban walked to his office quite confident with himself. He would not think about Ms. Granger. An image of her kissing him popped in his mind. He was holding her up on a wall. Her legs were parted, ankles hooked at his back.

Corban shook his head. The rush of blood southwards worried him but he willed his mind to calm down. Deep breaths, he reminded himself and desperately tried to think of _something else_ when his eyes closed and the scene of him taking Ms. Granger continued at the back of his mind.

This would be a long day.

"Oh, good morning Mr. Yaxley! Before you join the meeting at ten o'clock…" The voice of his assistant Mrs. Willson startled Corban, but he was thankful for the distraction.

"Good morning Mrs. Willson."

The witch reached for a pile of letters in her desk drawers. "Letters arrived for you. One is from Hogwarts—"

Corban held his breath.

"— from Headmistress McGonagall. And there is also…"

Corban gritted his teeth, angry at himself. "That's fine. Here, let me."

He grabbed the letters from the witch's hands. "I don't want to be disturbed until the meeting. And remind Mr. Martin to be ready five minutes to ten. If he is not perfectly prepared for the meeting by then, he might as well not attend."

Corban returned to the letters in his hands. "Thank you, Mrs. Willson."

He then proceeded to his office and closed his door, his eyes skimming through the letters. There was the one from Headmistress, and another one from the Magical Games and Sports Department, and one more…

Corban halted one step before his desk. He blinked and read the envelope again. There was no mistaking it.

_From : Professor Hermione Granger_

_Head of Charms Department, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Order of Merlin, First Class. the Second Wizarding War._

What has she replied, Corban immediately thought. A mocking part of his mind telling him that what wrote inside would be an apology letter that she would not make it to his dinner invitation. Rowena curse her, if the young witch was so cruel.

_Only one way to find out_, Corban thought and he tore the envelope open.

* * *

**Hello!**

**This story will be longer than the five chapters I initially planned. **

**We'll see how that'll work. Hope you enjoy :D**

**Ydream08**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Meeting**

_by Ydream08_

* * *

Chapter 5

"Thank you, Dunmore." Corban nodded to his Squib driver once he was out of the backseat of his Mercedes S320. The black vehicle had been Corban's companion just as the driver for the past three years. It had been difficult to adapt at first, but he found that he was content with the quality of this transport. Within the Muggle neighbourhood of Glasgow it showed a difference and with that in mind Corban Yaxley could bare his humble commute which involved Dunmore driving Corban from his Manor at the outskirts of the city to an old central pub from where Corban would floo to the Leaky Cauldron in London. Later, he used the visitors entrance there to the Ministry.

It was a tedious work. Loss of time, really. After the War, floo network to the Ministry had become restricted, and only the Heads of Departments had direct fireplace connections. With his newly appointed position of Head, Corban was counting the days to get a grant for the floo connection as Apparating to London like in good old days was unfortunately a distant dream.

Owling with Professor Granger, Corban found it better that the witch prefered floo over Apparition anyway. It made it easier to arrange transportation to the restaurant he has booked for tonight.

"She should be here any moment," Corban muttered to Dunmore. Both men stood beside the car, waiting for the guest to arrive.

"You need only to notify the restaurant staff for when you would like to leave, sir." Dunmore looked around. "I will come without delay."

Corban nodded. They had conversed about this.

As a Squib, Dunmore has been an immense asset ever since Corban moved back into his Manor. He and Corban used to be playmates as childs. His parents, the Andersons, were a respectable family, father pureblood and mother Half-Blood. They had Dunmore as their only child, and as a result, when Dunmore failed to manifest magic, the family had removed themselves from the magical world. The Yaxley family had not lost connection till the loss of Corban's mother five years before the second war.

Dunmore had visited Corban at the Manor two days after his release from Azkaban.

It was an amusing gift from fate, Corban admitted. Although they maintained a familiar business relation now, Dunmore felt more like an old friend (different from Lucius of course). Dunmore had helped Corban back to his feet, starting from the employment of the Manor's cleaning and cooking staff (House-elves were released from his domain) to aiding with Corban's regular visits with an old Healer in Glasgow.

Considering all that, maybe Corban should have relented to the man's insistent advice to buy a mobile phone. A portable communication device, as Corban was informed. It would save the hussle of these irritating details like when and how to meet as in now.

"Yes, I will let the staff know." Corban had slipped to Dunmore that he was meeting with a female friend tonight. Hence why he was receiving the sideway glances every bloody second. A change of topic was warranted as they waited. "How are the kids? The boy is graduating this year, isn't he?"

Dunmore smiled, unmistakably a smile of a father. "He will start university this Fall, very excited for it. He is taller than me now, you know sir. And my girl… oh my princess… I can't believe she received the Letter."

Corban let a genuine smile form as he looked at his friend. It was a happy coincidence for their younger child to get a Hogwarts letter around the time the family had reasserted their connection to the magical world through Corban.

The girl, Clare, had not showed any accidental magic as Dunmore kept on saying. Thus why the parents had been quite shocked to have an owl waiting on their post. Corban was confident Dunmore and his wife must have missed the signs, but as a man without a wife no less children, Corban couldn't fathom how could a parent overlook the magic of their offspring.

"She will do amazing things, Dunmore. A lucky girl, yours is. Do not forget, I am here for your and your daughter's any need. I wish to repay all your kindness."

Dunmore nodded, unable to say more on the topic. Some time ago, Corban had caught tears in Dunmore's eyes at these topics.

Corban was about to say more when his friend shook off his familiarity and stood straight. Corban had been standing unchanged, shoulders squared and back straight already, but even he felt the need to reassess himself and lift his chin.

Following Dunmore's gaze, Corban found what has caught his attention. Of course, his driver did not know Professor Granger, but as she was looking at Corban now, nobody would mistake that she was the guest they were awaiting.

Corban could not determine what the young woman wore under that long black coat of hers, but her stocked legs under which black high heels were worn, he guessed she chose a dress tonight as well. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail for a change.

She looked stunning.

Maybe the best aspect of her was the blush of her cheeks Corban noticed under the dim street light at the corner of the pub.

As her unwavering gaze kept Corban's, he couldn't help but smirk. He knew she liked what she saw, just as he did. He wondered why she hesitated though, not like he would bite if she walked over. Maybe he should.

At the thought, Corban's eyes flashed and a wide grin cracked his face. Not that Professor Granger was privy of his thoughts, but for some reason she averted her gaze in embarrassment and then prepared to cross the road to join him.

"Hi," she called. Once she took that last step next to him, she offered to shake his hand. Corban held her soft hand in his and turned it to put a light kiss on her knuckles.

"Welcome, Professor Granger," he replied. She bit her lower lip but that did not hide her smile. Good.

There was a clearing of a throat, and Corban remembered Dunmore waiting standing to show both of them to their seats.

He opened the back door and Corban assisted Professor Granger while she took her seat. Corban shook off Dunmore when he attempted to circle around to help him, and opened his own door.

Looking at Professor Granger and noting her small smile to his silent question, Corban nodded. "We are all set, Dunmore."

Dunmore set the engine going, and silence fell over the car. It was not yet terribly dark outside and to their luck no rain was expected for today, but such material was not used to prompt a conversation.

Corban honestly knew not where to start or what to say. Should he wait for her to talk?

Nonsense! _He_ was the host. Where was his manners? Merlin curse him if he would be paralysed as a boy who sees a woman for the first time.

"How did you find the pub? I hope the floo was not tiring."

"Oh, no," Professor Granger shook her head. "I asked Professor—Headmistress McGonagall to use her fireplace. It was easy to find here. Thank you for offering to pick me up, it is much easier this way. I've never been to Glasgow. It is a nice change for me."

"Have you never been here before?" Corban asked. When the witch shook her head again, he felt pride at being the person to show her his city for the first time. It was a chance to make her fall in love with here. "It is where I was born. The Yaxley Manor, near outside the city, has been in my family for centuries. I would love to show you the city next time, at a day when we meet earlier."

"I'd love that!" Professor Granger interrupted, but quickly blushed at her own excitement. "I mean, I love seeing new places. I travelled with my parents every summer, but we've never come to Scotland. I mean, Hogwarts is at the Highlands here, so they thought I should see foreign places while I had the chance."

"Why not do all?" Corban countered. He was amazed how easily the conversation flowed already and Professor Granger seemed very interested being here with him. This woman should definitely be a dream. "I find that travelling is a matter of setting your mind to it and making the appropriate arrangements. Before…" Corban cleared his throat. Talking about the war would not be a good starter for their chat. "I used travel Europe very frequently before. Once in my sixth year in Hogwarts even, me and my friends had arranged to travel on our own. Those were good days."

"In sixth year? Was it in that summer or the winter break? Where did you travel to?"

"Let me see… There were five of us… Andrew, Samuel, me and Lucius… and Errol, yes… I wonder what he is up to nowadays? Anyhow, it was in the summer holiday when the five of us started with Paris, France,…"

"Mr. Yaxley, sir," Dunmore interrupted. Corban looked up at him at the rear mirror. There was a curious glint in his eyes. "We have arrived."

Corban turned to Professor Granger and smiled apologetically. The young witch smiled as well and went to grab her purse. Soon, they stopped by the side of the road. As Dunmore helped Professor Granger out of the car, Corban stepped outside and walked around to receive his lady friend.

"Thank you, Dunmore."

With a sly work of Dunmore's leading hands, Professor Granger had her own hand resting at the inside of Corban's forearm. The proximity descended the two into silence as they walked inside, but it was a silence of shy anticipation. Corban had a strong feeling that his excitement over the young witch's presence was mirrored with her.

Corban requested their table and the waiter guided them over to their seats by the windows. The restaurant was of high-quality as could be concluded from the pristine attires of the staff, the dressings of the tables and appearances of the customers. Here was one of the famous establishments in the city where one or two wizards or witches could -although rarely- be spotted. Those who could afford such establishments did not prefer Muggle side of Glasgow as the wizarding side was much more respected and well-known. Corban did not mind coming here, especially since he desired anonymity overall and especially in this specific circumstance.

Taking out the War Heroine Hermione Granger to dinner, just the two of them, would have been golden news for the front page of the Prophet.

"It is an amazing place," Professor Granger commented when the waiter left with their menus. "Do you come here often?"

The young witch was already skimming through the menu so Corban couldn't determine whether she asked it out of curiosity or meant to inquire him about coming to a Muggle place.

"Occasion rarely arises," Corban decided on. "I dine guests mostly at the Manor."

There was no need to mention he has had no guests till now. Only Lucius. Not that Corban counted him. His old friend did not linger in Glasgow, but dropped by to whisk away Corban to some event or the other. Lucius Malfoy always says, in an event, attending by oneself means desperate but two people would look worthwhile. Corban has gotten used to it.

"Oh, I see." Corban glanced briefly at the witch. Was that a blush? "So, this is different."

Her voice wavered alas it did not sound as a question. Corban was confident this to be the worst time to explain why this meeting was different.

"Have you decided?" Corban continued instead. "I could make a suggestion, if you'd like?"

Professor Granger shook her head, closing her eyes for a moment, she cracked a smile. "No, that's fine. I decided."

Corban felt his mouth dry so when he called the waiter to order, he asked for refreshments as well.

"So?" Professor Granger rested her elbows on the table, her delicate hands gathered above the plate but they quickly slipped back down when she edged closer on her seat.

"So…" His heart hammered against his chest when she looked at him like that. Her eyes were so big, so focused, and light seemed to emit within them, instead of merely reflecting it.

"Counting the days for the meeting at Hogwarts, eh?" Corban commented finally. Else Professor Granger would look into his soul.

"Right, the meeting…" Professor Granger muttered, her eyes losing that shine a notch. "Really, with the countdown to the wedding, it is hardly in my mind—"

Corban nearly choked. "Pardon me?"

"Are you alright? I'm sorry—I didn't mean to…"

"Your wedding?"

"_My_ wedding? _What_?"

"Professor Granger, you said your wedding countdown was…"

"Just Hermione is fine."

An abrupt silence. Corban could swear the air between them was as thick as his damn robes. Both bloody condensing, hot, and restrictive. He must have gained weight.

"_Hermione_," Corban tried the name. It felt different. Intimate. The hot flush travelled rather south. Thinking back to the main topic, Corban forced to swallow the lump in his throat and ignore his _excitement._ "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I definitely heard… Are you getting married?"

"What? No! No way. No, you got it all wrong."

The waiter chose that moment to refresh their glasses.

Professor Granger took a swallow. "Godric, no. Not my wedding. It is Ronald's. The news was sudden, so I can imagine why you don't know. It is two days from now. I'm helping Ginny with the preparations."

Corban only knew one Ronald she could refer to. "Ronald Weasley?"

Professor Granger nodded. "He was abroad. I don't follow his team's schedule, but this season they are rarely playing at homeland. He is a professional Quidditch player, a Keeper. Anyway, he just popped in at the Burrow -where the Weasley's live- and announced he would be marrying to this blonde witch. Molly wasn't enthusiastic till he confessed the girl is pregnant."

Corban couldn't hide his shock. Professor Granger rolled her eyes as if to agree with him. "Yeah, such a romantic story…"

"Romance is hardly my forte to make a judgement," Corban relented. He was aware what he would say about this was important. This line of conversation could easily be turned into their outlooks on marriage. Corban aimed exactly that; and if he was successful about it, perhaps he and Professor Granger—_Hermione _would agree on the nature of their relation by the end of the night.

Hermione assessed him carefully as he spoke, "However I find that it is hardly appropriate."

"I guess…" The witch repositioned herself in her seat. She looked downcast. Her brows furrowed. "It is not anybody's business how they went about it."

Corban shook his head at the obvious annoyance of the witch. She understood him wrong. "I do not say this to scorn them." It was true. His voice was devoid of the venom it would have possessed some years ago. "I do not care what they do. And of course, I'm in no position to judge them. I only meant to say that… for me, that kind of behaviour is not acceptable. I would never commit such acts."

Now the witch had a puzzled look to her, but a curious one. "So, what would you have done? Left the the girl and the baby? Or demanded she be rid of it?"

"No," Corban directly said.

All the anger vanished from the witch's face as she froze, a blush creeping to her beautiful skin as seconds washed by.

This was amusing. Corban would enjoy making _Hermione_ surprised at every step that she got to know him.

"If the woman was one that I involved myself with, I would have proposed from the start. Before the baby."

Their orders came with the topic hanging in the air rather glaringly. A few minutes passed as the clings of their utensils were all that could be heard.

When Corban heard a soft moan, he looked up at the young witch. Her eyes were closed, lips sparkling as she tasted her bite, and when she opened her eyes, she looked captivated. "This salmon is delicious."

Corban reached for his drink. After taking a gulp, he smiled and nodded. "I'm glad it is to your satisfaction."

They commented on the culinary accomplishments of the establishment for the following ten to twenty minutes as they ate before Miss Granger reached for her own glass.

"You know that I'm not stupid, right? You avoided my question."

Corban raised his brows. "I'd never insult a breath-taking woman as yourself like that."

Hermione's eyes popped open in bewilderment. "Uh… yes, well, that's not what I…"

"Is this about your friend's situation?"

Miss Granger put down her glass and nodded.

"I hardly know their circumstances now, do I?"

"But you said it is not appropriate of them to do what they do. Yet you admit you don't know their circumstances."

"You are trying to deviate my words and intentions."

"Explain to me."

At that, Corban found Miss Granger's insistent eyes. Those lovely brown eyes that held his cold blue ones, screamed Miss Granger's undivided attention. It pleased Corban to be the one kept by them.

"You do not accept my answer that I would have acted very differently regarding a witch from the very beginning."

"Of course I don't. I asked you what you'd do if there was a baby?"

"...And I know a small part of you who…" Corban knew they would delve into the topic of the War sooner or later but he prefered it to be short. "...who thinks that I am capable of heinous actions also thinks that I would terrorize the poor woman for her to be out of my life. However, you take lightly the beliefs we, _I _, live by. So I will stress it again that I would not be involved with a witch and end up like your friend, that's why I think your insistence to know what I would do if there was a baby, a rather pointless wondering…"

Miss Granger opened her mouth again to argue, her expression cross.

"_But_, hastening the process and not valuing the tradition to ask for the hand of the witch is still not acceptable for me. If there were a baby, tradition dictates the families to draw a contract just the same. Except for the tedious fore-details as to determining the heritage of the baby and so on."

"Draw contracts?"

"Indeed." Corban watched as the woman neutralized her expression. Then she looked upset again.

"It is marriage either way?"

"Not if you prefer to '_be rid of it_'? The baby?"

Hermione looked taken aback with how the tables turned. It was her time to be questioned, Corban mused.

"I don't find it healthy to speak hypothetically without specifics on a situation."

"That is quite hypocritical of you." Corban grinned at her blush.

"Well, for your information, that is a very personal question—"

"So was asking what I would do if…"

"—and I believe a child has to grow in a loving environment, so in any other situation I do not accept _accidents_. But that is me. Not to mention, here I am speaking without being pregnant at the moment facing that very decision with a man I do not love. That means, whatever I say must never be taken seriously."

Miss Granger's flare dimmed as he held her gaze. He finally reached for his glass, mulling over what she has said.

"How can you have a strong opinion but be so accommodating at the same time?" Corban blurted out.

He knew this trait was why the witch was currently sitting at his table. On a date with him.

"I learned. I'm learning," she whispered.

Both gazed carefully in each others' eyes but none elaborated on the subject.

* * *

This was a bloody weird date. If it was one, at least.

Here they were talking about marriage, love and abortion, albeit barely. For Hermione, it felt like back at the meeting again. They were speaking about these subjects but she didn't feel like they were speaking to the very last detail, giving every reasoning behind their arguments or try reach an acceptable resolution.

It made her frustrated. And hot. And so very aroused.

The last time she ever conversed this way (as in, speaking her arguments meant a shiver alerted her core) it was back at the education meeting at Hogwarts and Hermione knew adrenaline was the key there as she had been presenting a case to thirty people.

Here, it was only the two of them.

A very fit male specimen, sitting across her, poised and serious, his eyes always searching to find hers…

It was a miracle she was able to breathe this regularly.

Taking the last bite of her dish, Hermione leaned back at her chair. Corban Yaxley was indeed a fine wizard. Aged, yes, but he made her feel a range of emotions she only felt reading fiction books.

Unnoticingly, her eyes wandered over his gray-blonde hair tied at the nape. The colour change was obviously from both his long years and stressful life, but the real give away was his features. His eyes were sharp and alight, but the crinkles around them just as around his mouth and the corner of his chin, relayed that he was senior to Hermione. Those, Hermione in fact overlooked. What caught her attention was rather his lashes, that made his eyes striking as if they already hadn't been, and his lips, that Hermione couldn't help but imagining how they would feel brushing against hers.

The hot flush she felt at her temples made her eyes drop. She shouldn't think too frequently down that path. Really. She didn't want to get ahead of herself.

This was a night that she would go with the flow.

And honestly, it felt odd that she felt so strongly to this man, thinking that he wasn't at all whom she imagined going out with.

For example, with males, Hermione had an obsession to check their hands and fingers. They had to be thin and elegant, nails long and unbitten. It was one of the rare things she always thought wouldn't overlook when she assessed someone's potential.

Hermione stole a glance at Mr. Yaxley's hands and found that she hadn't been mistaken the first time she met him. They weren't ugly, but…

Hermione looked up at his eyes again and any coherent thought was lost. What had she been thinking? Did it matter what his hands looked like when he made her feel this way? When he was so captivating like that? His eyes bore into hers, pinning her to the spot.

Holding his gaze was preferable to anyone else's she has ever met so far in her short life.

"Dessert?" Mr. Yaxley asked.

Hermione blinked and gathered her wits. "Sure. Anything you pick."

The waiter came and Mr. Yaxley put in the order. Hermione waited for them to be alone again to broach a new subject. She was curious.

"So… Before the war… I mean, do you have kids? Were you married? After war, I mean in Azkaban if you were locked… Is that when you got a divorce?"

For a person who could form perfect sentences, asking a question was definitely not easy for her at the moment.

Not when she noticed his sour expression, anyway.

What did he expect? This question would be asked one way or the other! Hermione knew they had arranged a _date_ after the meeting, and till coming here, she had thought it could have been a professional invite to talk about the education system, but neither of them had spoken about it.

This was a date. And if they have talked about her non-existent wedding, they would talk about his life as well.

"Just one question, Miss Granger. My life is not so complicated."

Hermione held the bridge of her nose at that. Her attempt to ask him this had indeed sounded awful then.

"Well, it is not simple if you don't tell me about it."

"Yes, I believe you are right." Mr. Yaxley gathered his hands in front of him. His face was devoid of any emotion. "I never married. Never had children of my own. After the war, I was locked up in Azkaban for three years. Very long, if you ask me. When I was out, I started to work in the Ministry. Education Department was in need of staff and I found myself there."

Hermione doubted that was the whole story, but it seemed he would divulge her this much tonight. And for this one time, Hermione guessed she could leave the subject at that.

Their desserts have arrived, rather conveniently as well.

Just when she took a bite of her creme brulee, Mr. Yaxley spoke again.

"I want to have a family now that I have set my life straight. There is still much more that I could accomplish, make a better place for myself in the wizarding world, but I find that I do not want to do that alone."

That meant… That meant he is taking this seriously.

Her brain gave a halt at this, and Hermione had to force herself to find something to say.

Did she want to start a relationship that could lead to _marriage_? Wasn't she going with the flow? _This_ was not going with the flow, it was outright planning.

"I'm not sure…" Hermione finally managed to put together something before Mr. Yaxley interfered.

"I have time of course, there is no point to rush myself."

There was a silence in which Hermione wondered whether she appreciated him being honest or whether it was freaking her out.

She thought about it as the wonderful sweetness of the creme brulee eased her nerves. His revelation shouldn't bother her this much, right? She was already twenty-three, and (beside Ron) a few of her friends had already married. Not that it meant she should marry. But what harm would be to try her attraction? Yes, his intention was to marry, but he has made it clear that he could wait… wait for her to change her mind?

This was a bloody mess.

"I'm not sure." This time Hermione sounded more confident. She _felt _more confident. She wasn't bloody sure, of course. She had to think. She had to make a pro-&-con list. First, a list of marriage in general, then of marrying now, and lastly a list of being in a relationship that linked to a marriage.

Furthermore, Hermione had to know Corban Yaxley more before she even considered marriage in the specific situation that it happened to be with him.

"That's alright."

At the response, Hermione was met with a lovely smile of Mr. Yaxley. It made her heart flutter.

"Why are you...?"

"Shall we go?" Mr. Yaxley changed the subject. Hermione wanted to talk, but she wanted to be alone to think as well, so she dumbly nodded. For once she wouldn't argue.

The man rose to his feet and helped Hermione, too.

As they stepped out of the restaurant, all Hermione could think of was how nice Mr. Yaxley smelled and how distracting the heat coming from his arm she held onto was.

"I'm afraid we'll have to wait for my driver to come. It shouldn't take long."

Hermione squeezed his arm and looked up at him. His other hand covered hers immediately, and his lips curled into the faintest smile.

"I would like to see you again," Mr. Yaxley rasped that moment. Her breath caught as his intense gaze found hers to show that he was effected very much like her.

"I could owl you." Hermione wasn't sure she would. But if she wanted, she could.

Mr. Yaxley nodded. She didn't want to break the eye contact (even if it burned her face immeasurably) but she couldn't resist to glance at his lips.

Hermione knew she had to know to make a decision.

It was a simple line to add to her pro-&-con list.

_His touch makes me a wonderful mess._

She had to know.

One hand reached to guide him by his nape, and the other took leavarge so she could rise to her tiptoes.

It was a faint brush of skin at first. Nothing out of ordinary. Dry but warm. Very warm. She licked her lips. Then reached for him again.

This time it was more solid. A fine press of their lips. She felt him there. Real. Male. Exhilarating.

She gently fell back to her feet and Mr. Yaxley followed her lips. The third time their lips met, it was with an angle. It made it easier to open her mouth, dart her tongue and find his as well.

He was so hot and soft. Wet and sweet. Must be the chocolate cake he ate last.

Hermione couldn't help the content moan as they deepened the kiss. His arm came around her waist and brought her closer. His big hand cupped her jaw and the touch burned her.

_His touch makes me a wonderful mess._

They had to stop to breathe.

They had to stop for decency, she realized with how Mr. Yaxley cleared his throat and took half a step back.

He still somewhat held her, his fingers clasping the edge of her cloak.

Just as Hermione was about to look at him, an intense light obscured him and Hermione reflexively turned around to find that it was the headlights of their transport.

It was a blur how the driver stepped out and helped her sit. Mr. Yaxley sat next to her once again. It wasn't closer than when they had picked her up. The dinner and the kiss had not changed his position.

Hermione didn't know what that meant.

She didn't glance back at him as they rode. Looking out the window was not a better choice as it reflected her and Mr. Yaxley over the black surroundings. At least the image was blurred.

Finally the car came to a stop at the front of a pub. Hermione knew the place. She would floo to Hogwarts from here.

The driver was much closer to her so it didn't surprise her that he opened the door. He was a gentleman with a sincere smile on his face. Hermione thanked him as she got out.

Before she could take a step further, a hand grabbed her elbow and turned her around.

Hermione knew she would not forget his sharp gaze. His tightly sealed lips. His knitted brows.

She wouldn't forget the slight blush to his cheekbones.

Her hand was held. She glanced down as her own small hand disappeared in his two larger ones. He held onto her firmly as he brought her hand to his lips. He stood tall, no bending to steal a kiss at her knuckles.

As his lips stayed at her skin longer, the gesture felt more intimate.

_His touch makes me a wonderful mess._

How in the world would she walk back to her room with her weak knees?

"I will wait for your owl, Hermione."

When her hand was released, Hermione did the only thing that made sense. She Disapparated.

* * *

**Hello,**

**I just want to wish everyone to be safe and healthy! Take good care of yourselves! **

**Ydream08**


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